Among The Chaos of The Stars (You're My Safe Harbour)
by Deadly Whirlpool
Summary: IronStrange Gift Exchange 2019: Stephen has always been able to hear the stars. Tony is the only one who can silence them.
1. He Breathes Out Space Dust

**For IronStrange Gift Exchange 2019**.

**Gift to: Mystical_Magician on A03**

_In a nutshell, the two prompts I got were:_

_1\. Stephen was not quite human._

_2\. Stephen always tries to be unobtrusive, but Tony always notices him._

_I kinda blended the two and came up with this.__This is the first time I'm trying to write in present tense, so it might not be as smooth as I hoped. But, hey, I tried._

**CHAPTER ONE: He Breathes Out Space Dust**

000

If anyone ever asked Stephen about his earliest memory, he would say it was his mother's voice or his father's smile. He would tell of the tree in the backyard that he always climbed. He would tell of the library down the road where he used to go with his sister. He would say what any normal person would say. But the truth is, his earliest memory is a _voice_. A voice that was as deep as the void and just as ancient, that resonated through his entire body as it spoke words in a language he did not, and would not ever, understand.

The only thing he felt in his soul, the feeling that stayed with him throughout his life, was an inexplicable sense of inevitability.

Stephen was but a child then. It would take him years before he could put his experience into words.

000

Stephen likes heights. He likes when he can see the entire world from his dad's shoulders. He likes when he kneels on the window seat in his bedroom and sees the entire garden stretched out in front of him.

It's a fine day and he's climbing a tree. His concentration is broken by an ominous crack and he falls. As the ground is rushing towards him, he thinks, _stop_.

His mum is reaching towards him, fear written all over her face, as she hangs suspended in time. There is a bird which is mid-trill. The world is completely and utterly silent.

_It's a miracle_, they say, _that he wasn't harmed._

The confused consideration in his mother's eyes is overshadowed by the stark relief at finding her child unharmed.

000

_That is so cool_, your sister says, awe clear in her voice.

_What else can you do_, your dad asks, apprehension and fear shining through.

_You need to be careful, darling_, your mom implores, filled with concern.

000

He learns to keep it quiet, keep it secret.

A sliver of iridescent _green_ winds through his subconscious. He dreams of the stars being born, the mad screaming of the void, mischievous laughter of the nebulae.

And above all, when he wakes up, his chest is heavy with yearning and he has to choke back the lump in his throat, longing for something intangible, something just out of his reach.

000

It gets worse. Because, of course it does.

_Did you think it'll be easy, little Stephen?_

His dreams _(nightmares)_ bleed into his waking hours. His parents find him hiding in the closet, hands clamped over his ears, trying futilely to block out the cacophony of space. He can't hear his family's voices, can't hear himself think and he thinks he is saying something _(it hurts, please make it stop, please please please, it's so loud, so loud, please help me)._

He can't hear his own voice even though he can feel his throat vibrating around his words.

He screams and screams and _screams_, hoping to drown out the ever-present call of the stars.

000

He finds that he can ignore _(not fully, not quite so, but just enough to carry on living)_ the haunting melodies if he concentrates on something else, anything else, hard enough.

He usually has a music player with him everywhere he goes.

He listens to the people he's talking to, focuses on their words, their cadences so much so that they remember him for his intensity.

He goes into medicine, relishing the hard work it requires. He throws himself into his studies, learns the intricacies of a human body, all the while keeping a finger on the pulse of the universe.

He still wakes up with the yearning and the longing filling him to the brim that he can taste it on his tongue. But he also feels an odd urgency.

_Something is coming, something is going to happen soon._

Stephen doesn't know if he should be filled with apprehension or excitement.

000

The first time he sees Tony Stark, it's on the TV.

There's a _tug_ in his chest.

He puts it out of his mind. There are complicated surgeries to be performed by a skilled doctor, which he happens to be.

He pays no mind to the excited chorus that resonates from the corners of the universe.

He doesn't turn back to catch one more glimpse of the man. _(He does.)_

000

He loses everything in a turn he did not see, did not expect, did not plan for.

The haunting music, that forever pulses at the back of his mind, sounds mournful, melancholic.

He tells himself to stop imagining things.

000

On seeing the Eye of Agamotto, the stone glowing with the same verdant light that fills his mind every time he closes his eyes, he thinks, _oh_.

_Oh, it's you._

_I found you._

000

The first thing that strikes him when he enters the Dark Dimension is how silent it is. A moment later, he is shown how wrong his initial impression was when the agonised shrieking of a million voices tears at _(into -hurtshurtsgodithurts-)_ his brain.

The stars that had been sucked into the cursed space had lost their starlight-spun melodies, but not their raw, grating voices. The madness inherent in the unholy sounds threatens to bring him to his knees.

He grabs onto the clear rhythm that is emanating from the Eye.

And using that pure ringing melody as a crutch, he says, _Dormammu, I've come to bargain._

000

The Eye sings to him every night. It sings to him of the beginning, of the end.

It sings of eternity.

It is to these songs that he sleeps, constellations spinning over him. And when he is filled with terrors that swarms him when his defenses are down, the Eye smooths them away with soft crooning, embracing him within its endless notes, protective and possessive of what it considers to be its own.

000

He learns about the Infinity Stones.

He learns about the Time Stone.

And something _clicks_ into place.

000

_Thanos..._

The very name causes the soothingly rhythmic song of the Time Stone to become jarringly discordant.

_Usurper, traitor, oath breaker..._

There's rage and despair woven into the symphony now.

000

He meets Tony Stark.

The world quiets down. The universe itself holds its breath for a moment, and Stephen's world turns on its axis.

But no, he can't focus on this now.

_Thanos first, Stark later._

000

Stephen knows the exact second he crossed the Earth's protective embrace and fell into the greedy grasp of the space.

The stars sound exultant and hypnotic.

The pain of a hundred shards piercing his skin jolts him out of the trance he had fallen into, unaware.

His screams echo around the chamber.

The stars fall silent and he thinks, breathes out, _Stark_.

000

Millions and millions of possibilities.

_(-the Avengers dying again and again and again, in so many different ways - planets burning - the stars falling silent - Tony standing alone on a dead Earth - I hope they remember you, Stark - an army of Iron Man armours - we've won but at what cost - civilisations gone - the grief of the people renders the universe mute - there was no other way -)_

How many did we win?

One.

000

A snap echoes throughout the universe, galaxies shivering in its wake.

And Stephen looks at this one extraordinary human who makes it all right, the one human whose name will become legend and will be sung about forever, in the stories that people will tell and in the songs that the stars will sing.

He thinks, _I didn't know I was waiting for you._

He thinks, _you're the only one who can do this._

He thinks, _Tony..._

"We're in the endgame now."

000


	2. His Eyes Are Made Of Starlight

**CHAPTER TWO: His Eyes Are Made Of Starlight**

000

They have won. Thanos is gone, the Infinity Stones are gone, and they have won.

When he finds the kid, Tony is almost bowled over by Peter crashing into him and holding on tightly, his tears wetting the collar of Tony's shirt.

Peter keens, _Mr Stark, Mr Stark, I was so scared. I knew you'll help us, Mr Stark, I knew, I did. _

Tony hushes him, _of course, kid, Peter, it's okay, you're okay, I got you, you're safe, son. _

000

Tony finds Strange kneeling on the ground, his eyes unfocused, his cloak fluttering around him in a panic. Strange doesn't seem to be responding to the Cloak slapping his face and Tony is hit with a pang of concern.

He sits next to him, and talks slowly, softly, continuously. He talks of Peter and how he is safely with his aunt now _(I don't think May will be letting him out of her sight for atleast a year),_ of the Avengers and how they are happy for regaining what they lost and grieving for the new losses they've faced. He speaks of Pepper and Rhodey and Happy _(Pepper is with Happy now and she's much happier for it. Rhodey's got a crush on Danvers and that's a riot)._

Strange's eyes are slowly focusing, his breathing becoming steadier by the minute.

Tony places a warm hand on trembling ones. A soft exhale.

_You okay?_

_Always. _

000

Life goes on. The Earth keeps spinning, and the people pick themselves up, dust off the ashes and march on.

There are numerous meetings now, discussions within the world leaders and with the leaders of the various planets who have decided that everyone in the universe owes a debt to the humans, to the Avengers, but especially to Tony Stark.

Tony sees Strange in passing, and each time, the sorcerer looks more and more worn down. He overhears as Wong worries over Stephen not sleeping at all, and Stephen replies with a weary, _I can't_.

Wong says, _tell him, Stephen. Stark will help. He won't say no._

Stephen's voice trembles as he says, _I can't_.

000

Tony is many things - Iron Man, Avenger, a futurist. But first and foremost, he is a scientist.

So, he observes and catalogues his observations and he arrives at a conclusion. A highly improbable one, maybe, but after everything that has happened _(god, what even is his life?),_ not an impossible conclusion.

And so he plots, because he knows himself and he knows how he would react if he was in Stephen's position _(and since when did Strange become Stephen anyway?)._

000

The stars are particularly bright tonight and when Tony follows Stephen out into the balcony, he watches as Stephen curls his fingers into a fist, nails digging in so hard that Tony half expects rivulets of blood to drip down, dragging his feet, being pulled outside against his will. Tony sees the struggle and the exhaustion that comes with it. He sees the yearning to loose himself in the ether and the terror that coexists along with it.

Tony steps near and he sees the way Stephen sags, like the strings that were pulling him to the beyond are cut, like he could breathe properly for the first time in ages. He lays a hand on a hunched shoulder, fingers brushing the elegant neck and sees, from the corner of his eye, as Stephen relaxes even more under his hold.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't fair," Stephen murmurs, eyes closed, leaning into Tony's hand like a touch-starved kitten. "It wasn't fair to put such a burden on you. You had enough to deal with already."

"I am alive today because of you. You think I wouldn't put aside everything if I knew you needed me?"

"Ah, of course," Stephen says, bitterness threading through his voice. "Gratitude, that's why you're wasting your time on me. You don't owe me anything, Stark."

Tony remains silent for a moment and then leaning against the railing, he turns Stephen to face him. The stars are behind Tony, beckoning seductively, and yet, the only thing Stephen sees is Tony.

Tony reaches out and places his other hand on Stephen's face, framing the hollow cheekbones _(has he been eating god he's so thin oh Stephen),_ stroking the pale skin. Stephen closes his eyes and leans into it, in ecstasy and in agony.

"You stupid wizard," Tony mutters, his voice unbearably fond. "It's not just gratitude, you idiot." He says _you idiot_ like how one would say _my darling, my love_. "I would have dropped everything for you because you would have done the same for me, because you are important to me."

Exerting pressure as light as the beat of a butterfly's wing, Tony draws his sorcerer closer, resting their foreheads together. Stephen places his hand on the star that Tony has harnessed to be his heart, and gazes at this impossible man who brought to life something celestial and had the courage and temerity to place it in his chest.

"Oh Stephen, can't you see?" Tony whispers, and _Stephen-_

Stephen _sees_ what Tony's been trying to show him, he sees it in the stars that has taken residence in his eyes, he feels it in the steady thrum of his heart under his palm, and Stephen _crumbles_.

Tony holds him, strong and steady, as Stephen shakes and shakes and _shakes_, gasping because the relief flooding him is a powerful thing and he knows now that Tony will catch him every time he falls, knows that he can break _(after years and years of holding it together - keep it quiet, keep it secret - after years and years of hanging by a thread)_ because Tony will put him back together again.

And standing there, under the night sky, the symphonies of the stars sound distant compared to the star _(Tony's heart)_ that sings just for him.

000

Elsewhere, all the Infinity Stones glow with an ethereal light, the Time Stone shimmering brighter than the others.

Tony and Stephen don't notice as a thread of _green_ winds itself around the arc reactor.

Time slows down, giving the two of them all the time they need.

000

**A/N: Scream to me about IronStrange, ask away anything that confused you in the fic.**

**I hope you all enjoyed it.**


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